


Because the Raddus Lived

by YrubSkwet



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YrubSkwet/pseuds/YrubSkwet
Summary: A long time ago, in a slightly-alternate galaxy far, far away...





	1. It's Not What You Think

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sasstasticmad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasstasticmad/gifts).



Finn stares at his hands, fingers laced almost tight enough to dislocate a knuckle.  
He channels every conflicting emotion there, hoping that the ensuing melee will leave a surviving thought to guide him forward.

 

First, Rey.  
Now Rose, and the Resistance.

People and ideas to fight for--to die for, or so he'd thought.  
But the mechanic deep asleep on the opposing bunk had challenged his worldview once more, no sooner than the new bearings he'd thought he had could settle into place.

He looks up at her.

 

Black hair, tousled as always--moreso now, due to her day spent unconscious in a bacta tank--frames her kind face and plump cheeks.  
She's a marvel; a testament to the power of belief and sheer power of will.

 

Rose's burnished gold teardrop-shaped medallion lies askew upon her chest. 

A half that will never be completed.  
A sister who valued others far more than herself.  
Rage against her murderers, but channeled in a beautiful way that Finn can barely imagine.

Rose has never been a killer.

 

And now she opens her eyes to the cold, dark walls and metal bars of a detention cell, realizing that she's back on the _Raddus_.  
Rose sits up in an instant.

"What happened??"

Finn stares hard at his hands, lost and unable to find words.

"Finn..."

His eyebrows knot tighter, and the situation suddenly becomes clear to Rose.

"...are they calling us traitors?"

 

There's no crueler word.

 

"FUCK!!"

Finn slams his fist into the stiff cot beneath him, oblivious to the pain.

"We trusted him, that evil piece of shit! _I trusted him!!_ "

The grizzled slackjaw codebreaker's face dances before his eyes; taunting, betraying, lying, over and over and over again. 

 

Murderer. 

Snake. 

Traitor.

 

"He's the traitor, not us! We were so close... to saving..."

Tears come quick and unbidden, crumpling Finn to the floor, and he sobs.  
Ever-compassionate, Rose sits; she wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder, and there they sit for some time.

 

Long after the water has evaporated from Finn's cheeks, he turns to Rose with a look that's half-serene, half-hopeless.

"Why did you kiss me?"

 

Taken off-guard, Rose blushes and looks away quickly.

"I-I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking..."

He shakes his head.

"No, it's all right. But... I don't think we'd be a good fit, is all."

 

She looks back at him with telling confusion, but Finn interrupts before she can speak.

"It's not what you think. You're... amazing. You really are, Rose."

She tries to smile, with only the barest measure of success, and he trudges on.

 

"It's... I haven't told anyone this, so..."

Rose is befuddled now. Finn takes a deep breath.

"Okay. Umm... I'm not... into girls."

 

He's immensely relieved to have said it.

 

Rose's jaw couldn't be lower.


	2. "Commander"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago, in a slightly-alternate galaxy far, far away...

Connix marches down one of the hundred sameish polished corridors in the _Raddus_. 

 

Looking down, it becomes apparent that no amount of squirming is going to make the military-grade cuffs any less painful on her wrists.  
She knows the guard on her left--Ilna, a friend and close confidant, who can't keep from sneaking worried glances--but war has come between them too, at last.

Connix's quilted, mustard-colored tunic hangs at the perfect height to provide additional discomfort for her bruised hands.  
_We tried, we failed_ , she thinks. Doesn't take much to divide heroes and criminals.

 

Before long, Ilna and what's-his-name deposit her in a cell that, shockingly, contains Poe Dameron.  
She tries to maintain her composure as the guards lock the door and unenthusiastically pronounce that "the trial" will take place shortly.

With this, they leave, but not before making the same pronouncement to the occupants of another chamber someways further down the block.

 

As the sound of footsteps recedes, Poe urgently turns to Connix.

"Kay--"

She brushes away his hand.

"You can't call me that. They can't know."

 

His puppydog disappointment is intoxicating. How could Kay have been expected to ignore her superior officer, when he swaggered into the barracks on her first day of training, looking like all of her midnight fantasies captured and bottled into one man?

 

Luxurious dark wavy hair, designed as if for the sole purpose of giving her something wonderful to grasp onto as he turned her vision to purest light. The body of an angel with hazelnut skin, soft to the touch yet muscled firm and taut; strong enough to move her in any way he pleased, for as long as she wanted.

A face of graven features that deserved to be kissed all over, and confident lips that had certainly kissed every single part of her, twice-over.

How was she supposed to react when he spoke?

 

"You know how this trial's gonna go, right?"

Poe raises his eyebrows to indicate the obviousness of their situation.

"We committed treason. We're good as dead."

Kay struggles to think of a counterpoint, and to not bite her lip.

 

But he bites it for her, and her blood rushes hot and downward and she's lost in him again, the fucking scoundrel. Their tongues and lips trace familiar routes-- _bombing runs_ , Poe calls them--in and out of each other's mouths until Kay shoves his hand between her thighs.

 

" _Make me come_."

 

'Commander Dameron' is teasing her through damp pantlegs, then unbuttoning her with unnecessary but oh-so-necessary extra pressure, then his strong fingers are IN IN IN because she yanks his wrist and her cunt is so very, very, _very_ hungry.

Kay doesn't expect to whimper as loudly as she does, a gasp of pleasure that's audible even through her hand, tightly pressed against pursing lips and muffled groans.

Poe wastes no time sliding his thumb between her legs, gathering the wetness below, then firmly massaging it up onto her pleading clit. His outside fingers slap against the bottom of her thighs as the inner two penetrate so deeply she could scream.

 

Kay's almost there already. Poe knows it.

 

He curls his fingers inside of her so they reach toward her stomach, finding and igniting her nexus in an instant. She loses track of time, where she is, what her name is.

All she knows is impossible pleasure, and him.

The spice-heat at her center arches her back and sends her eyes lolling, unseeing. 

She feels a gentle hand on her cheek, then Poe pulls her face to his and kisses her with a breathtaking passion.

 

Kay's eyes go wide and then she comes hard.

 

An orgasmic cry erupts from her, now unhindered by anything save the furthest walls of the cell block. Her hips buck against his fingers, body spasming, lost to hedonistic revels in the temple of her body.

But Poe is still fucking her.

She has about a moment to process what's about to happen, then loses track of anything but ecstasy for what seems like a very long time.

 

As reality slowly fades back in, Poe's kind face comes into focus. Kay is next to him on a cot, gasping for breath but happy as fuck.

He leans down and kisses her, buttoning up her dampened trousers.

_Goddamn. Those lips._

She teases him with an exhausted grin.

 

"You're a scoundrel."

Poe raises his eyebrows.

"I think you like that about me."

 

With a loud whooshing of compressed air, the detention block's main doors open, admitting what sounds like a small squad of armed Reistance guards. Poe grimaces.

"I have a bad f--"

 

He can't finish because Kay is kissing him.

_I love you._

_I know._

 

Their cell door opens.


	3. Trial & Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago, in a slightly-alternate galaxy far, far away...

Rose barely had time to process Finn's revelation before a woman's lusty cries began to echo throughout the prison, ever-building to an unbelievably wild crescendo.

_What in all hells is happening today?_

 

When the guards arrive to take her and Finn away, Rose is shocked to see Poe and Lieutenant Connix exit the same cell; both are flushed and defiant, but a passing glance of shame between Poe and Finn speaks volumes.

 _It makes sense now._

_I just fell for the wrong man._

 

The foursome are escorted towards High Command by security, a thickly-awkward silence hanging over them like sickly honey.

Clomping of heavy combat boots is interrupted only by the whispered gossip of onlookers--former confidants, now steeped in worried confusion--whose gaze none can bear to meet.

 Finn manages to raise his voice.

 

"Poe..."

Newly-demoted Captain Dameron whispers sharply.

"Finn, not now. It's complicated."

_Not acceptable._

"If not now, _when??_ This is it."

 

Finn's earnest stare slowly melts Poe's resolve.

"Look... you mean the world to me."

Finn snorts in disgust.

"But... so does Kay."

 

There's barely time for a general exchange of glances before the armored doors of Command part, revealing six of the Resistance's top brass, the ever-regal General Leia, and...

Vice Admiral Holdo.

 

In bewildered silence, the four prisoners are led to a long waist-level desk, their handcuffs affixed to its surface one-by-one; a row of rebels among rebels, with little to say in their defense.

Holdo looks them over clinically, with the slightest hint of a smile.

 

The General begins the proceedings in her raspy, kindhearted voice.

"It breaks my heart that it's come to this. You were only doing what you thought was right, and I commend you for it."

She shakes her head wistfully.

 

"But the reality is, we're at war. Your subordination and mutiny put everything we're fought to build at the deepest risk. We can hardly bear more losses... but something has to be done."

Contrition contorts the faces of her allies.

"As I was not your commanding officer at the time, the final deliberation will be Admiral Holdo's alone. I trust her to be fair and just."

 

With what could be the beginning of a wink, Leia leads a procession of Resistance leaders out of the same bulkhead that they entered.

Holdo stands alone, considering the traitors in silence.

Quickly getting impatient, Poe pipes up.

 

"Look, lady. Let's get this over with."

She snorts condescendingly.

"Oh, Captain Dameron. That's the exact type of mindset that got you--all of us--into our current situation. You'd do well to drop the tough-guy routine if you want to stay alive long enough to cause more destruction... which is your specialty, I suppose."

Poe manages to restrain a variety of insults.

 

"You are also expected to refer to your superiors by their rank. As you heard from General Leia, I have been promoted to Admiral, which is how you will address me from now on... in fact, all titles that any of you may have had are hereby rescinded. You are now ordinary soldiers, like any other in the Resistance."

 

This is far too much for Poe.

"My _ass_ we are!! You can't get away with this!"

 

A raised finger from the Admiral silences him.

"Your lives are in my hands. It's in my power to have you executed, understand? But I'm going to offer you an alternative, just once."

They trade terrified glances.

 

"The only condition is that any future act of insubordination will be your last."

Grim silence.

 

"And my first order to you is...

She pauses dramatically.

 

"...that you will tell no one about what happens in this room."


	4. Morons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago, in a slightly-alternate galaxy far, far away...

Amilyn Holdo bemusedly surveys her captive audience.

 

Their faces couldn't be more pitiable--different mixtures of emotional turmoil and uncertainty--an unfortunate side effect of punishment that she will soon alleviate.

 _But there's no need to rush_ , she posits. _Let them stew for a moment longer._

 

The past day had been a nightmare and a daydream rolled into one. 

Her dear friend, Leia--and most of Resistance command--lost in an instant, because of an inconceivable advancement in technology that the First Order had developed at the worst time possible: tracking through hyperspace.

Or, rather, all but Leia were lost.

 

True a Skywalker as any, the princess-turned-senator-turned-general had always put aside her latent affinity for the Force because the galaxy needed a guiding hand, not some conflicted hermit mumbling platitudes.

Amilyn admired her for that, perhaps more than anyone; in fact, it had been Leia who vouched for her in Apprentice Legislature of the Imperial Senate nearly 40 years ago... a debt that could never be truly repayed.

Nevertheless, in taking command of the _Raddus_ in their most desperate hour, Vice Admiral Holdo needed more than anything to make her sister-in-arms' sacrifice worth it.

 

The four brave, foolish miscreants before her had done everything in their power to undermine and demolish the plan that she had so carefully laid: a calculated retreat in shuttles too small to track from so great a range.

Short-sighted officers of all ranks had questioned her as to why she hadn't been more forthcoming about this tactical maneuver, relying only on the blind faith of her crew.

_Morons._

 

In war, information is more valuable than troops, cannons, cruisers.

A single breach would have spelled the extinction of the only force standing between the free peoples and a new Galactic Empire.

Moreover, these mutineers had done exactly that, exposing their friends and allies to a certain doom that had been delayed for reasons that Amilyn had yet to fathom.

 

Her hand had been on the hyperdrive lever, the _Raddus_ ' course angled directly at Snoke's massive Star Destroyer, ready to annihilate herself and as many foes as she could bring along.

And then... the cannons went silent.

Wicked-looking green turbolaser rounds that had been slaughtering the only family she knew had simply ceased.

 

_Why?_

 

But there's no room for hesitation in combat.

Admiral Holdo had set a course for Crait, fuel reserves desperately low but able to manage a final trip. By the time the guns had renewed their barrage, she was far from lethal range.

And then the dark-robed symbol of hate landed with his armies.

 

Leia's wayward son--once so kind and good--was no less a monster then when Holdo had last encountered him, at Chyron Belt. 

_Such fury, such mindless rage. A killing machine._

Yet, oddly... 

Bereft of a left arm.

 

After the failure of the monoski-speeders' attack on a cannon of massive size, the Resistance's armored bastion was sundered, spelling certain doom with no chance of escape.

But no sooner than had despair sunk in appeared cautious hope, when--unbelievably, unfathomably--Leia's long-lost brother appeared, as if from thin air.

He stopped only a moment with his dear sister, then kissed her forehead and strode out upon the crimson-gouged salt flats to face an army alone.

 

 _I've never seen someone_ literally _take a stand against evil_ , Amilyn muses.

Luke survived an unbelievable bombardment, managing to taunt Kylo Ren into single combat, which gave the rebels time to siphon their transports' fuel back into the _Raddus_ and make their escape through hyperspace, to an untraveled, lonely corner of the galaxy.

_So here we are._

 

"...permission to speak, Admiral?"

 

A timid voice interrupts her reverie--it's the sprightly mechanic.

_...Ah yes._

 

Approaching her, Holdo gently takes hold of her cuffed hands--rough and sturdy from a life of hard labor--and draws close to whisper in her ear.

"Not yet."

 

Then the Admiral ensures her silence with a kiss.


End file.
